Holding On
by The Brat Prince
Summary: Kendall is standing there on the dirty concrete, his eyes glowing neon, like the night that stretches long and loud around them, the din of tourists and starlets and businessmen building into a steady buzz. It makes James's bones hum, and so does Kendall, with his defiant gaze and the hurt, razor edges of his smile.


**Holding On (For Way Too Long)**

A/N:Originally posted February 26, 2012, based on a prompt from Madeleine over at LJ_: hheheheheje! Kendall is a virgin and James finds out and makes a big deal about it and well you know...:P_

* * *

James knows that Kendall's a virgin. The guys tell each other everything, and if some pretty girl popped Kendall's cherry, well it definitely would have come up.

But.

See, James knows Kendall's a virgin, but he's always been able to sort of…ignore it.

Like, he also knows that the sky is blue and that bandanas are probably never making a comeback. That doesn't mean he never gets to appreciate a blazing orange sunset or that Bandana Man will ever stop being the coolest super hero in all of existence. It's just meaningless trivia. It doesn't have any real impact on his actual life.

That's all Kendall's virginity is too; trivia. A footnote in the story of the ever awesome Kendall Knight. And, to tell the truth, James secretly hopes it's not even that. Maybe Kendall got it on with Jo and just forgot to mention it to the guys.

It's totally possible.

Probably.

The subject is _so completely trivial_ that James actually forgets about it. Right up until the day they go on a double date. These girls are hot. Like, ridiculously hot. They're supermodel level smokin', the Aston Martins of womankind, and James goes through a whole hell of a lot to score a date with them. So he is less than pleased when girl number one, a bombastic brunette with skyscraper legs and bee-stung lips, starts giving James's date, a blonde with a magnificent rack and a brilliant smile these _we-have-to-go_ signals.

James recognizes those signals. He's got a set of his very own, crafted from years of bad dating experiences. When the pretty brunette with her pretty lips asks Blondie to accompany her to the bathroom for what James assumes is going to be a _leave-now_ speech, he jumps in.

Tact; never James Diamond's forte.

"Not enjoying yourself?" He asks as she daintily places her dinner napkin on the table.

Not that she's using it for anything. Her lo-cal salad doesn't even have dressing on it.

The supermodel crosses her arms, and okay, her rack is pretty impressive too. It's almost distracting enough that James nearly misses it when she says, "I'm sorry. Your friend's really nice, but I can't sleep with a virgin."

Kendall, for his part, has the gall to look completely unashamed of himself. If anything, he's got that expression on his face that's halfway to the danger-zone, part cocky, part pissed. James, on the other hand, is feeling the mortification of those words all the way in his bones. "He's not- you think- what?"

His first thought is Kendall's not a- _oh_.

His second is a timid _why does it even matter_? Their date plans aren't anything fancy; dinner and a movie, and sure, James was hinging on banging the blonde straight into his mattress, but it never even occurred to him that the girls would have the same kind of expectations.

Sometimes he forgets that the fairer sex actually likes sex as much as he does.

His third, much guiltier thought is _how did she know_?

That one gets answered pretty quickly; the brunette swivels her head towards Kendall and glares, which, okay, her snooty bitch factor is doing a really good job of distracting James from her supermodelness. "You're not a virgin?"

"No, I totally am," Kendall replies, completely nonchalant about it. "Guilty as charged."

"Kendall," James gasps, because who purposely sabotages their chances with a supermodel?

"It's not that you're not cute," the girl says, a bit more kindly, "It's just I like my men to be…men."

And okay, that one makes Kendall's cocksure grin falter. The girls leave, and James doesn't even try to make an attempt to stop them. "Why would you tell her that?"

"Because it's true?" Kendall replies, stuffing a roll into his mouth. He's doing a really great impression of a douchebag right now.

"But she didn't have to know that."

"Please, she kept trying to stick her sweaty foot up the leg of my jeans. I'm pretty sure she appreciated the information."

James frowns. Kendall's brandishing his virginity like a shield, scaring away James's super-hot date along with his own. That can't be allowed to happen ever again. He decides, "I can fix this."

"I'm not broken, James. There's nothing to fix."

"I'm going to get you laid."

"Um, no, you're not. I'm not a charity case."

"I beg to differ."

"James, don't." Kendall is pleading now. Kendall barely ever pleads, or begs, or looks at James like maybe he has the upper hand. James softens.

"Why haven't you just- you know. Gotten it over with?"

"It's supposed to be special," Kendall replies, like it's that simple.

James's first time wasn't special. There was no candlelight or silk sheets, rose petals or violin music. There was this mousy girl that he had the biggest crush on during his freshman year. They got it on in the school restrooms during a drama club production of Hamlet.

James really liked that girl. He can still remember the way she folded into him, the blissed out look in her eyes, and how embarrassed they both became when it was all over in practically five seconds. He remembers every second of it and- _huh_.

Maybe it was special after all.

He's quiet through the rest of dinner, even when their waitress tries to flirt a bigger tip out of them. James is too busy trying to think, trying to plan, gears turning in his head. But it's only when they're out on the street in front of the restaurant that he really pins down what exactly it is he wants. Kendall is standing there on the dirty concrete, his eyes glowing neon, like the night that stretches long and loud around them, the din of tourists and starlets and businessmen building into a steady buzz. It makes James's bones hum, and so does Kendall, with his defiant gaze and the hurt, razor edges of his smile. James finally makes his choice the same way he makes most of his decisions; impulsively.

"You know, I could take care of that whole virginity problem for you."

Immediately, Kendall looks scandalized. "Do you even understand half the shit that comes out of your mouth? It's my virginity, not a rash, James."

"No, no, look, I'm serious. What's more special than losing it to your best friend?" James slings an arm around Kendall's shoulders, and keeps it there, steadfast, even when Kendall tells him to _get off_. Like that isn't totally the plan. James says, "I want to take care of you, and- Don't you get sick of waiting?"

Kendall hesitates, uncertainty tainting his features. "Stop messing around."

"I'm not." James grabs Kendall's hand where it is pinned between their bodies, lifts his wrist and kisses his pulse point. He murmurs, "Come on Kendall. Don't you want to fuck me?"

Kendall's mouth drops open, his breath caught in his throat. James takes it as an invitation, leaning forward and pressing their lips together. His tongue dips into Kendall's mouth, exploring, soft. He can taste the Cajun spices that were on the burger Kendall choked down minutes before, but it's not gross. More like…an extension of Kendall, of what Kendall is supposed to be right now.

"James," he mumbles, but he isn't pulling away, hands fisting into the front of James's leather jacket, his heart thudding hard between them.

"Come on, please," James begs into Kendall's mouth, licks the words against his tongue. Kendall's hands travel upward, tangling in James's hair, arms heavy against James's shoulders. His body is wound tight, radiating heat, pressed up against James's like he can't possibly get close enough.

"Okay," he breathes, "Okay, okay, oka-"

James cuts him off with a kiss, harder now, deeper.

Full of promise.

On the way back to the Palmwoods, he walks behind Kendall, watching the way he moves with this boneless elegance that James usually resents, because Kendall doesn't even try. Now he can't bring himself to care. All he can think about is what Kendall's long, lanky limbs look like underneath his clothes.

They lock themselves into the room Kendall shares with Logan, shutting the rest of the world out from their own private citadel. James pushes Kendall back into the door, appreciates the thud his shoulders make against wood. He works over Kendall's mouth, coaxes noises from his throat that are uncertain, happy, a little nervous. Kendall's fingers toy with the front of James's shirt, and yes, James decides he likes that idea immediately. Who even needs clothes? Clothes are obnoxious, and James is of the firm belief that they need to remove them pronto.

He tells Kendall so, and it's almost endearing the way he blushes from head to foot.

"You're cute like this," James says, in close, tasting Kendall's breath on his lips.

"Shut up," Kendall shoves his shoulder, averts his eyes. Then he looks back, like James is magnetic, like the idea of getting James naked is too enticing to actually hold a grudge. James grins and shrugs off his leather jacket, watching Kendall watch him with an increasing sense of how totally awesome this is going to be.

"Maybe-" Kendall starts, and James can almost hear the _we should stop_ in his voice. He takes hold of Kendall's shirt, flashes him a coy smile, and helps him out of it in one easy movement. He drops to his knees, kisses a circle around Kendall's navel, lathes his tongue against the skin until he can feel heat rising off the front of Kendall's jeans. He nips at the soft paunch of his belly, feels the hard muscle beneath it and wonders when exactly Kendall started turning into an actual man instead of the boy-god hockey captain with traces of baby fat. Kendall moans, palms a hand through James hair, and James breathes across the front of his jeans, teasing.

This time, Kendall groans, glares, and James decides to be an ass. He undoes the zipper of Kendall's pants with his teeth, just to show off, thumbing open the button and kissing his way down Kendall's thighs as he steps out of them.

Kendall's boxers are tenting, but he doesn't try to hide it, his luminous eyes trained on James like a trapped animal. James sucks in a breath, because Kendall is sexy, unwittingly hot, and it's not actually fair. He maneuvers the both of them over to Kendall's bed and forces Kendall to sit down so James can just have some _distance_, so he can breathe fresh oxygen and think for a second.

James strips off his shirt as Kendall watches, wide eyed. When it falls to the floor, James's hands deftly work open the front of his jeans. He focuses on the familiar routine, trying to regain some clarity. He can't just hurry through this, get straight down to the action, because this is Kendall's first time. His _first_, James reminds himself.

He's going to be Kendal's first.

Kendall's sitting there, in his boxers, and okay, James is maybe drooling a little bit, because underneath the mirage of pale and scrawny, Kendall really is well-muscled and beautiful, golden hair tracking down his belly and into the blue and white plaid of his shorts. Once James is naked, fully naked, and Kendall's eyes are tracking the red bob of his dick, James steps forward. He thumbs beneath Kendall's waistband, fingertips grazing against the head of his dick and coming back wet with the shine of precum. James pops his fingers into his mouth, tasting it, tasting Kendall salty against his tongue.

Kendall swallows, hard.

James kisses him, charmed by the reaction. He's charmed by everything Kendall does right now, enchanted by the wounded little noise he makes when James tugs off his boxers and kisses the shaft of his dick, tongues over his balls. He is hard and aching for it, a scarlet flush creeping up his belly, branching out across Kendall's collarbone. James's chest rises and falls quick, breath shallow, pulse jumping like a drumbeat in his veins.

He's not nervous. That would be dumb. James has so much experience it's ridiculous. Most of that experience was with chicks, but that's just a minor detail. He is a sex _god._ Just. James isn't feeling super godly right now.

He wants this.

Badly.

Things speed up. They figure out the mechanics of lube and what goes where and that trying to just go at it is not any fun at all. Kendall's got a pretty high pain threshold, but making him hurt isn't what James is going for at all here, and besides, the wince and _owowowow_ James's dick elicits from Kendall isn't exactly setting the mood. He's not used to touching Kendall gently, but he has to, now. James treats him like he might break apart beneath his fingers, soft until he scissors against this place that makes Kendall yelp, a tiny spurt of precum drizzling down the side of his cock. He likes that, likes the way Kendall squirms against him and tries to hide his face in the pillow, shy and embarrassed in a way James has never seen before.

There's not actually anything he doesn't like about this. It's new and it's different and it's Kendall, the same kid who used to coach him through hockey and bandage up his bruises. His own personal hero since before he can remember, and now James will be the standard that he sets every other lover he ever has against. James hovers over him, and his heart bleeds with it, a raw wound in his chest that oozes emotions James isn't used to handling. Kendall cups a hand around his cheek, says _I trust you_, and it's like every defensive wall James has ever built up around himself comes crashing down, dissolves into dust and rust and love and lust.

This moment, here with Kendall, the held breaths between them and the wet gleam of his eyes, feels unavoidable. Like no matter what James ever did, this would always have happened. Like maybe it should have happened a long time ago. His skin is opalescent, cast in the dim lights of the city outside their window, thin enough that James can see the shape of his blue veins. James fucks into him slow, watching the tight line of muscle in Kendall's jaw and the hypnotic green bands of his irises, shrinking and widening when the pain turns to pleasure.

Kendall is wrapped around James, spider limbs and hard weight. His eyes glow in the dark, pupils blown wide and black and sucking him in. The first time James gets him to moan, for real, gets him to throw his head back and beg for it harder, he pouts, insolent. He's not used to losing control, but that's James's goal. He's going to make Kendall fall to pieces, going to make it so amazing that he won't be able to forget it, not ever.

He maneuvers Kendall's body to the side, aligns their bodies a different way and Kendall gasps, "James, fuck, _James,_" and squeezes tight around him. He feels unbelievable, and James sheaths himself as far as he can inside Kendall's heat, again and again and again. He sucks against the skin of Kendall's bicep, his collarbone, his pectoral muscles, tongues over his nipples and enjoys the way it makes Kendall squirm and rock back against him.

"You're amazing," James tells him, babbling with it, because he's always had this thing with sex where he can't shut himself up. He curses, calls Kendall _a tightass little bitch,_ says that he's _beautiful_, and Kendall grabs him by the chin and kisses James rough and deep. His fingers dig into James's skin, his gaze gone feral and fierce, and James can feel it when he lets go.

James's own vision begins to splinter, gold shards that darken at the edges, go off like fireflies spinning out of sight. Kendall is spasming around him, mumbling James's name, an oath that reverberates through James's chest, through his ribs, and down his spine. It makes his balls draw tight, and he warns Kendall before he loses it completely, gone limp and hazy, and Kendall talks him through it, holds him close and strokes down his spine.

When it's over, James hops out of bed, pulling on his jeans because it's the same thing he's been doing for years and years and years of banging willing individuals. He's already started the search for his t-shirt when he notices Kendall, sitting naked in the middle of a puddle of sheets with his legs tucked into his chest.

He looks like a little kid.

And that's when James realizes that this is not one of the numerous willing partners he can screw and just abandon afterwards with a quick kiss on the cheek and an _it's been fun_. This is Kendall. This is his best friend, and it's actually a big deal.

James shrugs out of his jeans and climbs right back into bed. He gets up into Kendall's personal space, snuggling into his side and says, "Hey."

"Hey," Kendall mumbles, and James can actually see his cheeks burn. He looks a little hurt. "Don't do me any favors."

James grabs at his face, caresses his cheek. "I didn't mean to do that."

"Old habits?"

"Shut up." James suddenly feels a little shy. Cuddling isn't really his gig, but he wants to wrap his arms around Kendall's waist, and he does. "How, uh. Was that?"

Kendall snorts. "Not like I have anything to judge it against."

"Okay, dude, seriously. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" James sets his chin against Kendall's shoulder, pulls him close into his chest until they're spooning. It's super gay, but James figures they're already past the point of caring.

"I know what you meant. I shouldn't have-" Kendall bites it off, and James is really, really scared that he regrets it, that Kendall thinks he gave it away too soon, to the wrong person. And what if he's right?

What if he never forgives James for this?

James says, "Oh."

Kendall turns to face him, rearranging the fit of their bodies, the cage of James's arms. He rolls his eyes. "Now who's misinterpreting? I shouldn't have expected you to give up your routine for me, okay? That's all. It was…" Voice turning small, soft, and completely un-Kendall-like, he says, "Good."

James beams. He is still reigning champion of all things sexy.

But.

He's not sure how important that is, because there's this other question plaguing him, a completely foreign concept that he's not sure how to interpret. "We could probably, uh. Do it again sometime. If you wanted."

He only just thought of it, but obviously, this is a genius-level idea. Kendall's hot, and eager, at least for now, and they could totally make this into a thing. "We could get dinner before, and, you know."

Kendall doesn't look like he does know, actually. He makes a face, his eyebrows scrunching up. "Like a…date?"

Immediately, James objects, "We don't have to call it that."

"You want to date me." Kendall's eyes are dancing with mirth. His smile is wolfish.

"I don't want to date you," James protests.

"You want to fuck me."

"Yes. Definitely," James agrees, already primed for another go of it. His dick twitches against Kendall's thigh, and he smirks, like the arrogant little shit he is. As the sweat cools against their skin, Kendall is regaining back his old leader-ly confidence.

"And buy me dinner."

"No. Well. Maybe." Defensively, James adds, "Food helps stamina."

"Oh, I see." Kendall nods very sagely and obnoxiously. "So you're just looking out for my welfare, because you're such a _workout_."

"Well. I am."

Kendall huffs a laugh.

Heathen.

"Fine, never mind." James buries his face in Kendall's neck and tries to fight the flush on his cheeks. "Forget I said anything."

"No, no, wait." He laughs again, louder, this time. It echoes through the still of his room. "Would we be seeing other people in between these not-dates?"

"Uh. I don't know."

James hadn't really thought of that. Kendall's expression darkens. He says, "I could see what it's like with a girl…"

"No!" James nearly shouts it. There is a hot, jealous thing in his chest, squeezing hard, and it is violently opposed to anyone else seeing Kendall like he just saw him, all desperate and needy and wrecked. It's abrupt and unreasonable and James is completely unequipped to fight it.

He's not accustomed to, you know. _Feeling_ stuff. He hugs Kendall's body closer, buries his face deeper, cheeks burning hotter. Kendall is startled, his eyes crossing as he tries to figure out what just happened. "Or I could stay celibate forever. Except for, you know. _You_."

"I like that plan way better," James agrees, nuzzling the hollow of Kendall's collarbone, arcing up and nipping at his ear.

"Of course you do." He can hear the eye roll, part two. Kendall squirms away from James's tongue, squirms forwards until he's rubbing just the right way against James's dick, and okay, he's really like an answer about that _doing it again sometime_ question. Like, immediately.

He whines, "Kendall?"

Kendall exhales, sharp, and says, "Fuck it. Yeah. Let's-"

James doesn't let him finish. He presses his mouth to Kendall's hard, fingers already tracing the wet circle of his asshole, still slick with his own cum. Kendall kisses back, grinds his hips against James's dick, and James thinks, _fuck double dates_.

It can't actually get any better than this.


End file.
